


All Imperfect Things

by arcadiarose



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:32:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadiarose/pseuds/arcadiarose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s seen the ups and downs of their relationship, the way they destroy each other with their words and actions, the way they fight almost as passionately as they make up. Liam’s seen the bruises on Harry's wrists and the cruel words that spill from both their mouths, but he’s never seen Harry so cracked before. It’s like Louis has finally dented Harry a little too much, and he can’t just be snapped back into place this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Imperfect Things

Liam sees what it does to them both.  
He can see the bruises on Harry’s wrists and the blood on Louis’ lips and the half-concealed rage that’s hidden beneath their loving exterior. He can see the darkness that drags them down, until they’re spiralling out of control and they have to fight and make up and fight again or they’re just empty.

“Why do you do it?” he asks Louis one time, after Harry has stormed from the apartment, snapping curses over his shoulder in response to the cruel words that are curling from Louis’ lips like smoke. Liam doesn’t even know what started it really, but then again he never does.

Louis doesn’t answer, so Liam asks again, but a different question and one he’s even more curious about. “What does it feel like?”

Louis looks at him and his brow is furrowed, his eyes are dark and hooded.

“It feels like drowning,” he says.

**

Harry has more bruises on his wrists and up his arms the day after, but he’s happier, his green eyes are clearer, and Louis is being sweet. Liam watches as the two of them cuddle together on the sofa and giggle and rub noses and it’s fucking adorable really. When he sees them like this it seems to make sense, and he almost thinks it’s worth it, all the hate and the dark words they toss between them, like they’re juggling knives.

“Get a room,” Zayn moans at them when their playful kisses morph into full on making out, Louis pressing Harry’s wrists into the couch above his head and practically biting his face off. It must hurt, Liam thinks, the tender skin of Harry’s bruised wrists pushed into the rough fabric, but the younger boy doesn’t seem to mind.

When Louis turns away from Harry to throw a “fuck off” in Zayn’s direction, both their lips are bruised and swollen.

**

Harry’s name is linked to another girl’s in the papers and Louis is snapping and angry. Harry is mopey and sad; he cuddles with Niall on the sofa in front of Toy Story 3, resting his head on the blonde’s shoulder. Louis watches him from the corner of the room where he’s sitting wrapped up in himself, limbs bound tightly together, knotted like rope. His very presence exudes anger.

Liam sees Harry shoot quick glances in Louis’ direction the whole way through the movie, but when it ends Louis simply gets up and leaves, and Harry makes no room to stop him.

Liam wonders why they even bother at all, really, but he’s never been in love like they are and knows he’ll never understand until he has.

**

“Where’s Louis?” Zayn asks, as the four of them sit at the table in Niall’s apartment, eating breakfast that Harry and Liam cooked (well – Harry did, and Liam buttered the toast).

The question is directed at Harry. His face twists up in an ugly expression and he shrugs. “Probably fucking Eleanor right now.”

Liam gasps in a quick breath. “She’s here?”

Harry shoves toast into his mouth. “Got here last night,” he mumbles with his mouth full.

“Oh Haz,” Zayn says, and he reaches over to ruffle the boy’s curls. Harry doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t lean into the touch like he usually does either, he just sits there, back rigid. “Do you want to stay at one of ours for a while?” Zayn asks, and Harry shoots him a quick smile.

“That’d be nice.”

**

Harry stays at Zayn’s that night, and the next morning Liam gets a call from Louis.

“Hello?”

“Is he with you?” Louis snaps into the phone.

Liam plays dumb even though he knows exactly who he’s talking about. “Who?”

“You know who,” Louis says, voice harsh. “Harry.”

“Oh,” Liam says. “No, he’s not here.”

“Where is he then?” Louis asks, and though his tone is angry there’s fear behind it. Louis is worried.

“He stayed at Zayn’s,” Liam says. “Because Eleanor was at yours.”

Louis exhales rapidly. “He didn’t even tell me,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that makes a lump come to Liam’s throat. “He just… he just left, Liam.”

Liam coughs. “Just for the night, Lou,” he says. “He’ll come back. It’s just while Eleanor is there.”

“Is it though?” asks Louis, bitterly. “Because I don’t know anymore, Liam. Half the time it’s like he hates me.”

It’s like you hate him too, Liam thinks, but all he says is, “You love each other, Louis. You love each other so you’ll get through this.”

Louis says, “right” but there’s a little doubt in his voice.

**

Liam and Niall meet up with them the next day and Louis is charming and Harry… Harry is quiet. His eyes are troubled and even though he leans into Louis’ embrace and returns his kisses it’s like there’s something missing. If Louis notices it he doesn’t do anything about it, except maybe be even sweeter, kissing Harry’s curls every few minutes, cuddling with him on the couch and wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s shoulders.

Niall is his usual cheerful self, so even though Harry is quiet and Liam is watchful, the atmosphere stays bright. Harry and Liam play Mario Kart and for once Liam wins, which has Louis springing to Harry’s defence and declaring Liam a cheat. Harry finally relaxes fully and beams his bright smile at Louis’ words. Liam pretends to be offended and throws the controller at Louis’ head.

“Let’s see if you could do better,” he says, and so Louis plays Harry until they get bored and disappear off into a bedroom, not even bothering to be subtle about it.

Liam hopes everything is better now, and they’ll be happy again. Niall moans about the noises coming through the thin walls, but Liam can’t bring himself to really care.

**

One month later and Harry turns up in the rain with a bruise on his cheek, a split lip and tears in his eyes (or is it just rain?). Liam lets him, dries him off and makes him a cup of tea, and Harry sits at the kitchen table with both hands wrapped the mug, gazing at the opposite wall with a blank expression. When Liam’s finished clearing up he sits across from the other boy and looks him dead in the eyes.

“Harry,” he says.

Harry seems to come out of a trance. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it’s late.”

“You know I don’t care,” Liam says. “None of us do. Just… are you okay, Haz?”

“I’m fine,” says Harry, and his voice is so small and weak Liam almost misses the words. He gets up again and walks over to Harry’s side of the table, pulling the younger boy into a hug. Harry’s ribs poke at him uncomfortably.

“When was the last time you ate?” Liam asks.

“I don’t know,” Harry admits. As he speaks his split lip starts bleeding harder.

“Oh Hazza,” Liam says. “Let’s clean that up for you, hmm?”

Harry follows him blankly through to the bathroom. Liam cleans up his bloody lip and examines the bruise on his cheek. It’s turning purple before his eyes, and slightly swollen. With a faint thrill of unease, Liam spots more bruises in the shape of fingers around Harry’s neck.

“Haz,” he says. “Did Louis do this?”

Harry looks at him with tired eyes, and Liam wonders if he’s finally broken. He’s seen the ups and downs of their relationship, the way they destroy each other with their words and actions, the way they fight almost as passionately as they make up. He’s seen the way Harry flinches sometimes when Louis gets close unexpectedly, the curly-head boy drawing away from Louis like he’s afraid of him.

Liam’s seen the bruises on his wrists and the cruel words that spill from both their mouths, but he’s never seen Harry so cracked before. It’s like Louis has finally dented Harry a little too much, and he can’t just be snapped back into place this time.

Is this love? Liam wonders. He’s not so sure, anymore.

Harry hasn’t answered his question.

“Haz?” Liam asks.

Harry blinks slowly. “Liam,” he says, his voice feeble. “I don’t…”

“You don’t…?”

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore. With him,” Harry says. Liam feels a deep swelling rage for Louis at that moment, Louis who turned Harry from that bright-eyed, charming 16 year old into this, this pretty little broken thing.

Liam’s phone rings. He checks the caller ID and inhales sharply. “It’s Louis,” he tells Harry.

Harry surveys him with emerald eyes. “Are you going to answer?”

“Should I?” Liam asks.

They listen to the phone ring. Liam is aware that this is the important moment: the crossroads, his parents would say. This is the moment where Harry has to choose, whether the bruises on his wrists and the tears in his eyes are worth it, because they come from love.

Harry blinks again, and looks between the phone and Liam’s concerned face.

“Answer it,” he says.

Liam thinks that if this is love, it’s far more difficult than it should be.


End file.
